Page 142 of Filthy Rich Santas

“We willhappilydo that,” Beckett rumbles as Tristan gives me a piercing, enigmatic smile.

And then they’re on me, surrounding me, their mouths claiming mine, their hands mapping my body with eager possession. I’m breathless and overwhelmed, in the best possible way. My senses are alive, every nerve ending singing as they strip me of my clothes, their mouths and hands everywhere.

I gasp as a hand slips between my thighs, already so keyed up from wearing the butt plug all day.

“Please,” I whisper, not sure who I’m begging, but not caring. I’m theirs, and I need them to finish what they started.

“Not yet, baby,” Beckett murmurs roughly. “We’re just getting started.”

Their mouths move over me, hands teasing, stroking, until I’m a quivering mess, pleasure coiled tight and ready to snap.

Beckett’s mouth finds my neck, his teeth nipping at my pulse point as his hands roam lower, delving between my legs.

“So fucking wet already,” Ryder growls as he takes in the sight of me, my breasts heaving, nipples tight.

Tristan presses against me from behind, reaching around to pinch them.

“Beckett,” he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine as the two of them exchange some sort of silent communication.

“Yes,” Beckett says, and before I can answer what it is they’ve just agreed on, Ryder captures my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine as his hands map my body, flames licking across my skin where he touches.

I’m lost in it, my eyes closed and my breath ragged, when suddenly Tristan’s fingers are gone. He moves away from behind me, and a cool, silken cloth slips over my eyes.

They’re blindfolding me.

“Color?” Beckett asks.

“Green,” I whisper.

A moment later, cool metal touches my skin, trailing along my ribs and over my stomach. I suck in a breath, every nerve ending alight. I have no idea what it is, but the sensory deprivation makes even that light touch feel electric.

Then they drag the metal implement up to my breasts, and twin points of pressure on my nipples have me biting back a moan as something cool and shifting drags between them.

Nipple clamps, attached by a delicate chain.

I saw them in a drawer before they blindfolded me.

It’s not painful, but the pressure is intense, sending a bolt of sensation straight to my core. My breath comes in short gasps as the clamps are tightened more, making my knees shake.

“That’s it, baby,” Ryder murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Let yourself feel it all.”

“You look fucking incredible like this,” Beckett says, close enough to tell me that he’s the one who’s attached them.

“I feel… I…”

I’m left gasping, not sure how to put it into words.Gooddoesn’t seem like a big enough word, and evenincredibledoesn’t cover the overwhelming sensations rolling through me.

“You’re doing so well.” Beckett’s warm praise washes over me. “And we’re just getting started. We want to show you just how much your body can take.”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, please.”

They lead me over to one of the leather covered benches, bending me over it and directing me to spread my legs.

“Oh fuck,” someone mutters.

Tristan, I think. But maybe Ryder.

I’m starting to feel like my head is floating. So turned on that I’m lightheaded, but also disoriented in a sensual way by the blindfold and the inescapable sensation of the clamps. The only thing Icando is obey their softly murmured commands… andfeel.

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